


Back to Bon Temps

by nochick_fics



Series: Breaking Cherry [2]
Category: True Blood, Vassalord
Genre: Blood Drinking, Crossover, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nochick_fics/pseuds/nochick_fics
Summary: One year after the worst vacation ever, Charley and Johnny return to Bon Temps to save their friends from Eric Northman's wrath. (Sequel to Breaking Cherry.)





	1. Chapter 1

The vampire glared at his captor, his eyes blazing with unimaginable fury.  
  
He was strapped to a chair, his arms and legs bound with thick silver chains. Beside him was a table upon which rested dozens upon dozens of implements, all of them constructed for the sole purpose of torture.  
  
Not a pleasant thing to think about when one’s body could heal time and time again.  
  
“Do you honestly think that you can get away with this?” the vampire asked.  
  
His captor smiled coldly. “Yes.”  
  
He selected a small black case from the table and opened it so the vampire could see. Inside were neatly lined rows of syringes filled with an ominous metallic grey fluid.  
  
Liquid silver.  
  
“I learned something very interesting yesterday,” he said as he casually leaned against the vampire’s chair, one syringe twirling between his long fingers. “Fairy blood is  _incredibly_  delicious.”  
  
He smiled again, noting the vampire’s swelling anger.  
  
“But I guess you already knew that, didn’t you, Bill?”  
  
“Eric.” Bill’s voice was low. Deadly. “I will kill you if you hurt her.”  
  
Eric Northman grinned at his helpless hostage. “No, you won’t… and I already did.”  
  
An enraged scream filled the room.  
  
Eric jammed the needle into Bill’s neck and pushed the plunger.  
  
Then there was nothing but the smell of rapidly searing flesh and the sound of infinite agony.  
  
*****  
  
After submitting a report on a recent case to Church officials, Charley shut down the computer and leaned back in his chair.  He stared at the dark screen, contemplating his options.  It was almost seven-thirty in the evening, and well past sundown.  While he was tempted to wait a little while longer to wake him--because silence was such a tragically rare commodity in the house where his partner was concerned--he was also getting hungry.  So reluctantly, the cyborg decided to sacrifice the peace and quiet for a bite to eat.  Or  _drink_ , to be more accurate.  
  
He stood up and stepped out of the office, then made his way through the living room and into the dining room, a most useless room for a couple of vampires since they were incapable of dining in the human sense of the word.  
  
Well, there was that one time when Johnny had offered to stretch out naked on the table and…  
  
Charley quickly pushed away all thoughts of his master’s perversions.  He had far better and way more productive things to think about than Johnny Rayflo’s dirty-minded deeds.  No matter how much he had grown to enjoy them.  
  
He approached a large black hutch and ran a single artificial digit down the side of it until he felt what he was looking for. Charley pressed the button and stood back, then watched as the hutch swung outward on hidden hinges, revealing an entrance to a secret lower level of the house.  The motion sensor lighting triggered as he descended the stairs, which meant that Johnny was still asleep. Charley considered reprimanding him but he supposed that he did share in some of the blame for the vampire’s exhausted state, seeing as how they’d had all sorts of sex until all hours of the day.  
  
Lights flickered on when he reached the bottom of the stairs, revealing Johnny’s private sanctuary from the sun.  The bed where they had their earlier encounter was empty and unmade; Johnny still preferred his coffin when sleeping alone.  Charley walked over to it and kneeled down, then gently knocked on the lid.  
  
“Master,” he called out.  “It’s time to get up.”  
  
A muffled whine was Johnny’s only response.  
  
Undeterred, Charley opened the lid to the casket.  Johnny cringed as the light hit his face.  
  
“Come on, Cherry,” he moaned, reaching for the lid.  “A little while longer.”  
  
“No.”  Charley moved Johnny’s hand away.  “If it were up to you, you would sleep the entire night away.”  
  
Johnny pried open his eyes and frowned at the blond.  “It’s your fault I’m so tired anyway, you know.  Taking advantage of your poor, defenseless master like that.”  
  
Charley opted not to point out that it was his “poor, defenseless master” who had practically thrown him down on the bed and demanded to be fucked.  Instead, he stood up and held out his hand, and waited patiently for Johnny to oblige.  
  
Realizing that it was a fight he would never win, Johnny groaned in defeat.  “Meanie,” he muttered as he took Charley’s hand.  He got out of the coffin and stood before Charley, stretching and yawning loudly.  “Do I at least get a kiss for being so rudely awakened?” he asked, rubbing at his disheveled hair.  
  
Charley slowly leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on the vampire’s lips.  He did not object when arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him into a greedy embrace.  It was always nice, holding Johnny like that, and he shut his eyes and enjoyed the closeness until—  
  
“Master.”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“What is that?”  
  
Johnny blinked innocently at him, which was never a good sign.  “What is what?”  
  
“ _That_ ,” Charley reiterated.  “Digging into my hip.”  
  
“Oh, that.”  The vampire smiled coyly.  “Just a little evening wood.  Want to take care of it for me?”  
  
With an exasperated sigh, Charley extracted himself from Johnny's arms and headed towards the exit.  “You have two hands.  Take care of it yourself.”  
  
“Cherry!”  Johnny pouted at the retreating figure.  “Is that any way to treat your lover?” he asked.  
  
“It sure is,” Charley replied, pausing at the doorway.  “And be quick about it.  I’m starving.”  
  
He turned and stared at his maker, who was standing there with his arms folded and bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly, looking so stinking cute that it ought to be a sin.  
  
It really was annoying sometimes, the hold that Johnny had over him.  
  
Annoying… and inescapable.  
  
“Fine,” Charley said. “Come upstairs like a good little master and let me suck you. Then I’ll  _suck_  you.”  
  
A victorious smile bloomed on Johnny’s face.  
  
“Deal.”  
  
*****  
  
An hour later, with their respective hungers satisfied, the lovers relaxed on the living room couch, enjoying a glass of fine wine, the warmth of the fireplace, and each other.  Although nearly a year had already passed since a series of terrible events had catapulted their relationship into its current level of intimacy, rare still were the nights when they had the luxury of enjoying each other’s company for extended periods of time.  Charley still had his duties as a hunter, a calling that kept him on the road more often than not.  He brought Johnny along when he was able, for food as well as company, but there were times when doing so just wasn’t feasible. And so they made it a point to treasure what time they managed to have together... when they weren't driving each other crazy.  
  
Johnny stretched out his legs, bringing his feet to rest on Charley’s thighs, and Charley rubbed them absentmindedly with one hand while perusing a book with the other.  
  
“Cherry.”  
  
Charley looked up from his book.  “Yes?”  
  
“There’s a fly in here.”  Johnny lit a cigarette before continuing.  “Listen.”  
  
The vampires fell silent.  Sure enough, the faint but unmistakable sound of buzzing could be heard somewhere in the room.  
  
“You’re right.  I wonder how that happened,” Charley said.  
  
Johnny exhaled a plume of smoke.  “It probably got in when you were getting the mail.  Speaking of which, was there any?”  
  
Charley motioned towards the coffee table, upon which sat a stack of random envelopes and catalogs.  “I don’t know why you care,” he said as he eased from under Johnny’s legs and rose to his feet.  “All we ever get is generic ‘current resident’ mail.”  
  
“And  _I_  am a current resident,” Johnny pointed out, eagerly grabbing the pile.  “You never know,” he added while sorting through the stack.  “There could be something interesting in here.”  
  
“You really need a new hobby, Master.”  Charley craned his neck, looking and listening.  Had Johnny not mentioned the fly, he might have been able to peacefully enjoy the rest of the night.  But now that he knew it was in their midst, he was going to hear that wretched buzzing until he did something about it.  
  
He stepped around the couch, book closed and ready to strike at the first sign of their uninvited guest.  
  
“Ooooh, ‘current resident’ has been pre-approved for a Visa,” Johnny announced gleefully.  
  
“Congratulations.”  
  
Charley caught sight of something darting just past his field of vision—  
  
“Hey, Cherry.”  
  
— and he quickly spun around, trying to follow it.  
  
“Cherry.”  
  
There.  On the cushion where he was just sitting.  Charley tightened his hold on the book—  
  
“Cherry, I really don’t think you should do that.”  
  
— and raised it high in the air.  He then swung as hard as he could—  
  
 _“Cherry!”_  
  
— and hit the naked man square in the back of the head, knocking him off the couch and onto the floor.  
  
“Owwww!   _Fuck!_ ”  
  
“And  _that’s_  why I tried to stop you,” Johnny said.  
  
“… Sam?”  Charley dropped the book and peered at the nude man.  “Sam, is that you?”  
  
The shapeshifter struggled into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head.  “Who the hell else would it be?” he asked.  
  
Johnny eyeballed Sam appreciatively.  “Wow, you are so naked right now.”  
  
Sam used his free hand to cover his crotch as much as possible.  “Thanks for noticing, Johnny.”  
  
Charley helped Sam off the floor and back onto the couch, then handed him a throw pillow to shield his sensitive areas from prying eyes.  
  
“So very naked.”  
  
 _“Master.”_  
  
Charley turned his attention to Sam once again.  Although they had spoken on occasion over the past year, he hadn’t actually  _seen_  him since they parted ways in Bon Temps.   And that he was there now in what was clearly not a social visit… well, somehow that did not bode well at all.  
  
“What’s going on, Sam?” he asked.  
  
“Let me guess.” Johnny sighed deeply and lit another cigarette.  “An old friend of ours has resurfaced?”  
  
Sam nodded.  “With a fucking vengeance like I’ve never seen before.”  
  
“Wait.”  Charley shook his head, not wanting to believe what he already knew to be true.  “Eric?”  
  
“Yeah,” Sam said.  “I don’t know how, but he knows that Alcide and Sookie and I helped you.  He knows about Rayfell.  Hell, he even knows that Lafayette was the one who brought the weapons over to my house that night.  He knows  _everything_.  And he’s out for blood.”  
  
He looked directly at the dark-haired vampire, his expression grave and concerned.  
  
“ _Your_  blood, Johnny.  And I don’t think he’s going to stop until he gets it.”


	2. Chapter 2

Eric knelt down beside the naked and blood-covered being on the floor, coldly regarding the bruised and battered and barely breathing form.  He reached out and swept back a section of black hair, hair that was matted with sweat.  And blood.  And very likely small bits of flesh.  And quite possibly a skull fragment or two.  
  
“You don’t get to die, Alcide,” the vampire said as he smoothed a flap of the werewolf’s scalp back to its rightful place.  “No, not yet.”  
  
He raised his wrist to his mouth and bit down.  He then lowered his arm and positioned the fresh wound over Alcide’s mouth.  
  
“Drink,” he ordered.  
  
Blood began to pour steadily between Alcide’s lips.  With the small bit of fight that he had left, he tried desperately to move his head away, to deny the life-sustaining liquid that many residents of Bon Temps would have gladly paid large sums of money to receive, but Eric cupped his jaw and forced him to be still, waiting until he saw the big man’s throat respond instinctively before releasing him.  
  
“Good boy,” the blond cooed cruelly, patting him on the cheek.  “See?  I’m not a terrible guy once you get to know me, Alcide.  For instance, I can admit when I’m wrong and I give credit where credit is due.”  
  
Eric sat down on the concrete floor as he waited for the healing to commence, carefully avoiding the sizable pool of blood that stained it.  
  
“That being said, I really ought to be thanking you right now.  You see, I went through all of Sam’s things, at Merlotte’s and at his house, and I couldn’t find anything on our two friends.  No phone numbers, no paperwork, nothing.  I suppose it should have occurred to me that they would have traveled incognito.”  
  
He was even gracious enough to wait until Alcide finished hacking up a thick glob of blood before resuming.  
  
“I thought for sure that I had reached a dead end.  Sookie couldn’t tell me anything useful.  Neither could Lafayette.  And Bill…”  Eric’s smile was frighteningly ruthless.  “He was no help, either.  But then, I was going through your things and found this.”  
  
He reached into his pocket and produced a cell phone, his smile growing even wider when he saw the understanding in Alcide’s eyes.  Eric started scrolling through the phone’s extensive uncleared call log until he came across the only number on the entire list that featured an out of state area code.   _Way_  out of state.  According to the date and time displayed, the call was received around the same time that Bill was in Eric’s office, trying to convince him to leave a certain vampire cyborg alone.  If said vampire cyborg’s partner had been looking to solicit aid in a rescue effort, that would have been about the perfect time of night to do so.  
  
“So thank you, Alcide,” Eric said, his finger hovering over the call button.  “Thank you for saving me what could have very likely amounted to years of trouble.  Who knows?  Maybe I won’t kill you after all.”  
  
*****  
  
“It all happened so fast,” Sam began, now safely shielded from Johnny’s crotch-ogling eyes by a pair of Charley’s pants.  “One second I was in my office balancing the books after closing and the next, Eric had me up against the wall by my throat.  He said he knew that we helped Johnny break into Fangtasia, me and the others.  I didn’t have time to think.  I just shifted and got the hell out of there.  I went home but Eric was already there, looking for me. ”  
  
The shapeshifter let out a long, gusting sigh before speaking again.  
  
“There was this stray tom that used to come around every now and then looking for food.  I found him out in the front yard.  He was… torn apart.  Eric killed him.”  
  
“Because he thought the cat was you,” Charley concluded.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Charley paced around the room while Johnny smoked in silence beside Sam, both of them taking in the horror of his tale.  
  
“Sookie didn’t show up for work that day,” he continued.  “I didn’t really think anything about it at the time because honestly, ever since she started seeing Bill, there would be days when she would come in late or not at all because of some sort of… I don’t know, vampire drama or whatever the hell goes on between those two.  And it was Lafayette’s day off so it didn’t even occur to me that something might be wrong there.  But after Eric said what he did, I went to their houses to look for them.  They weren’t there.  And I couldn’t find Alcide, either.”  
  
Sam looked at the two vampires, his face full of worry.  
  
“They’re all gone.”  
  
“What about Bill?” Johnny asked.  “Where is he?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Sam replied with a shrug.  “But if Eric somehow got a hold of him…”  
  
He fell silent and let the implication speak for itself.  Although he was ignorant of the ways of vampire society, it didn’t take a scholar to figure out that Bill’s betrayal--the reason that Johnny had been able to successfully infiltrate Fangtasia in the first place--was an especially grievous offense.  
  
Charley finally stopped wandering about and turned to face the pair sitting on the couch.  “How is this even possible?”  
  
Sam shook his head.  “I have no idea.  It could have been one of the guards Alcide and I attacked.”  
  
“No.  It was Ginger.”  
  
Johnny calmly put out one cigarette and reached for another one.  
  
“It was Ginger,” he reiterated.  “No one else could have identified all of us.  She was under my influence when I sent her away, but still very much aware of her surroundings.”  
  
“What about Lafayette?” Sam asked.  “He wasn’t at the club.  Neither was Bill.  She wouldn’t have seen them.”  
  
“True,” Johnny agreed.  “But tell me something, Sam.  Alcide was asleep when they came to your house that night.  Did you happen to mention it to him at some point over the past year?”  
  
“Well… I mean… it’s not as if we talked about that night a lot, but yeah.  I told him.”  
  
Realization began to dawn on Sam’s face.  He leaned back and covered his face with his hands.  
  
“Shit,” he whispered through his fingers.  “Shit, shit,  _shit_.”  
  
Charley and Johnny locked eyes over the distraught shifter’s head.  So much for a nice, quiet evening together, that night and in the foreseeable future.  
  
“If he knew about Sam and everyone else from that woman, then why would he wait until now to do this?” Charley asked.  
  
“Because there is no expiration for vengeance, Cherry,” Johnny responded.  “Instead of lashing out when we wondered if there might be a chance of him doing so, he waited until we all thought we got away with it.”  
  
“So what do we do?”  
  
Johnny’s expression was answer enough.  As was Sam’s, haggard though it was.  Even Charley knew in his heart that it really wasn’t a question of what they were going to do, but rather  _when_  they were going to do it.  
  
The sound of ringing cut through the silence, catching them all off guard.  Johnny reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his brow creasing in a frown when he looked at the number that was displayed on the caller ID.  
  
Charley took a step towards him.  “Master?  Who is it?”  
  
“Stay here with Sam,” Johnny said quietly, rising to his feet.  “I’ll be right back.”  
  
*****  
  
He answered the phone the moment he stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him.  
  
“Hello, Eric.”  
  
“Ah, I take it that Sam found you then?”  There was an iciness to Eric’s voice, just beneath the calm.  “Hello, Johnny.”  
  
“Where is Alcide?”  
  
“How have you been?”  
  
 _“Where is Alcide?”_  
  
“Settle down.  He’s right here with me.  Say hello, Alcide.”  
  
Johnny clenched his teeth as the sound hit his ear, part human scream and part animal roar, both filled with astronomical pain.  “Bastard,” he hissed furiously.  
  
“I can do this all day, Johnny.  All week, all month, all year—”  
  
Another scream, this one more agonizing than the first.  
  
“Stop it!”  
  
“— forever,” Eric continued, ignoring Johnny’s demand.  “But I’d really rather not.”  
  
Johnny leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.  “Alright, Eric.  Where and when?”  
  
“Sam’s lake house.  Three days from now.”  
  
“I’ll be there.”  
  
“See that you are, Johnny, or Charles’ suffering will pale in comparison to theirs,” Eric warned.  “Speaking of Charles, I do hope that you bring him with you.  I…  _enjoyed him immensely_ … the last time he was here.”  
  
Johnny could practically feel Eric's leering on the other end of the line.   “Fuck you.”  
  
He severed their connection and angrily shoved the phone back into his pocket, his mind now racing with all the things that he had tried so hard to forget, the things that Eric did, the things Charley had to endure…  
  
“Master?”  
  
Johnny finally opened his eyes and found Charley standing in front of him.  “Hey, Cherry.”  
  
“That was Eric, wasn’t it?”  
  
“It was.”  
  
“We’re going back to Bon Temps, aren’t we?”  
  
“We are.”  
  
Charley sighed harshly and averted his eyes.  Johnny knew what was coming next, knew it just as well as he knew his own name.  His own  _true_  name, that was.  
  
“This is all my fault.”  
  
“Come on, Cherry…”  
  
The cyborg shook off Johnny’s attempted consolation.  “If I hadn’t stopped you, none of this would be happening.”  
  
“I was in a dark place back then,” Johnny said as he fished a cigarette out of his near empty pack, his tone soft, reflective.  “And I was about to do something that might have changed the way you looked at me forever.  But you brought me back.”  He lit up and looked evenly his lover.  “Do you regret doing that?”  
  
Charley was appalled at the suggestion.  “Of course not!”  
  
“Good.”  
  
Johnny exhaled a seemingly endless plume of smoke.  He then took Charley’s hand and intertwined their fingers, staring thoughtfully at the vampire’s artificial digits.  Reverently.  As if they were beautiful and precious things.  Because they were.  
  
“But there won’t be any room for spiritual conflict, Chris,” Johnny explained as he reluctantly let him go.  “Not anymore.  I’m going to face Eric Northman again.  And this time, you won't be able to stop me.”  
  
His gaze grew dark.  Decisive.  Deadly.  
  
“This time, one of us  _is_  going to die.”  
  



	3. Chapter 3

After about fifteen minutes spent watching Sam devour a delivered pizza, Johnny excused himself from the dining room table, which was finally getting some use--not counting that one time when he had offered to stretch out naked for Charley. The vampire stepped into the living room and plopped down on the sofa with a cigarette and his thoughts.  
  
A whole lot of thoughts.  
  
Like what might possibly happen at Sam’s lake house in three days.  
  
At first, Johnny had thought it an odd meeting place, the same place where he and Charley had stayed during their trip to Bon Temps. His suspicion was deepened even further when Sam later revealed that Eric had never even been invited inside of the lake house, unlike his actual home, where an invitation had been extended as a result of some long ago “bullshit with Sookie and Bill,” to use Sam’s ever so elegant phrasing. So why would Eric demand to meet at a location in which he would not be guaranteed entry?  
  
The most likely reason, which actually was not so suspicious at all, was that Sam would have surely been reported missing by the time their rendezvous took place. In the likelihood of that event, his home might be under constant surveillance. Although the shifter did not speak of any family, certainly  _someone_  would make mention of his disappearance to the proper authorities. One of his employees, perhaps. But while the theory held water, Johnny could not help but think that something else was afoot, that Eric had some other motive up his sleeve. One could hardly blame him, considering the circumstances.  
  
Johnny’s other cause for concern was that he was now without any possible element of surprise. Eric was going into this confrontation with both eyes open, and would be expecting the unexpected. The odds of coming out on top in a head-to-head battle with the much older and, admittedly, much stronger vampire were not in Johnny’s favor. Not to mention the added leverage that Eric had in the form of hostages that Johnny could only hope were still alive.  
  
But his biggest worry of all was Charley. The cyborg knew no restraints where Johnny’s well-being was concerned, and if he sensed any threat at all to the vampire’s safety, he would not hesitate to act, even at the cost of his own life. Considering the torment that his lover had previously endured at Eric’s hands, this was understandably something that Johnny would never allow to happen again.  
  
And so Johnny smoked. And pondered. And smoked some more.  
  
And after that, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and made a call.  
  
*****  
  
“Master?”  
  
“Yes, Cherry?”  
  
“Is there anything that you want to tell me?”  
  
Charley gazed down at the vampire lying in the coffin. He had given no thought to his departure from the dining room earlier that night. Johnny tended to smoke like a chimney, and to do so while Sam was eating would have been very rude.  
  
But then came the low and hushed tone of one who did not want to be heard. Although Johnny had not taken great pains to ensure his privacy, as he had when Eric called, the sound of his voice indicated that he was engrossed in a somewhat serious conversation. Perhaps he had called Rayfell. While it hardly seemed likely, the two of them were occasionally capable of interactions that were not filled with yelling and profanity and threats of dismemberment.  
  
“Well?” he tried again, waiting for a response.  
  
“You win, Cherry,” Johnny finally replied with a heavy sigh. “There  _is_  one thing that you really need to know right now. Something I’ve been meaning to tell you all night.”  
  
“What is it?” Charley asked, eager to hear the answer.  
  
Johnny smiled at him, a slender ringed finger twirling around one of his cables.  
  
“I’m horny.”  
  
Charley glared disapprovingly--but not surprisingly--at his partner. The world could be crumbling around them but Johnny Rayflo would still find the time for some good old fashioned sexual inappropriateness.  
  
And it was one of the things that Charley loved most about him, much to his chagrin.  
  
“Goodnight, Master,” he grumbled as he started lowering the coffin lid.  
  
“Cherry, wait!” Johnny blinked at him, his eyes dark and wide, his expression annoyingly precious. “I don’t even get a kiss?”  
  
“You don’t  _deserve_  a kiss,” Charley pointed out. “Not after that.”  
  
“But I’m so cute!” Johnny argued.  
  
Charley shook his head at his maker. What else was he supposed to do? He could either spend the rest of the night bickering with the needy vampire or go ahead and give in to what Johnny wanted, which he already knew he would have eventually done anyway.  
  
“You are no better than a spoiled child,” he said, removing his glasses.  
  
“You forgot cute,” Johnny reminded him.  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
Charley bent over and kissed him softly on the lips, partly because it was expected of him and partly just to silence him. He tried not to shudder as digits skillfully weaved through his hair. It was another one of Johnny’s traits that annoyed. And more often than not aroused.  
  
He pulled away with some reluctance and regarded his partner.  
  
“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what you’re plotting?” he asked, referring to their upcoming task.  
  
Johnny smiled again. “You know me, Cherry. I’m always up to no good.”  
  
Charley playfully tugged on a lock of the vampire’s wavy brown hair.  
  
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”  
  
And with that, he lowered the coffin lid, sealing Johnny in the darkness.  
  
Afterwards, he made his way into the kitchen and found Sam at the table, helping himself to a bowl of cereal courtesy of a 3am convenience store run. While Sam needed to eat more than just pizza for the next two days, the selections Charley found at the store left much to be desired. Perhaps he would take his friend out for an actual meal made by actual people at some point before they left for Bon Temps. Not everyone was fortunate enough to have a ready-made meal and lover rolled into one.  
  
“Did you sleep well last night?” he asked the shapeshifter.  
  
“I did, thanks,” Sam replied through a mouthful of sugary flakes. “It was nice to be able to get some rest and not have to worry about waking up naked somewhere.”  
  
And that was how Charley came to learn about the potentially embarrassing predicaments that plagued any shifter who was unlucky enough to fall asleep in their adopted form. While shapeshifting had its advantages, that particular drawback sounded highly troublesome.  
  
They made small talk for a few more hours, conveniently ignoring the subject of Bon Temps altogether. There was really no reason to bring it up as far as Charley was concerned. Until--and  _if_ \--Johnny was more forthcoming about his intentions, the only thing either of them could do anyway was speculate.  
  
Charley finally retired to the bunker sometime around ten that morning, leaving Sam to roam the house at his leisure. He kicked off his shoes and fell on top of the bed, burrowing into pillows that smelled like Johnny while trying not to think about all the things that could (and, unbeknownst to him,  _would_ ) go horribly wrong in the days ahead.  
  
*****  
  
Cheryl loved her master. Truly she did.  
  
Even so, there was something to be said for the silence that filled the house whenever Rayfell went to ground. And she had a feeling that Charley would agree wholeheartedly.  
  
She turned off the computer and sat back in her chair as she contemplated her next move, her tiny legs dangling, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and her face eerily reminiscent of a little boy named Chris. Her task was a simple one, really. Even a child… well,  _another_  child… could do it. But on the off-chance that it was not done correctly… if something should happen to go wrong…  
  
“It won’t,” she whispered to the empty room, nodding her head for emphasis.  
  
On that note, Cheryl stood up from the desk and left the room. There was much work that needed to be done before the sun went down.  
  
She was expecting company tonight. And she needed to prepare.  
  
*****  
  
Charley woke up shortly after dusk, with a crick in his neck and a vampire latched to his side. He smiled to himself as Johnny’s facial hair rubbed against his bare chest… and then he remembered that he had gone to bed with his shirt very much on.  
  
“Pervert,” he whispered. Oh, well. At least his pants were still on.  
  
He pulled out of Johnny’s grasp and sat up on the edge of the bed. His movements triggered the room’s motion sensor lighting, which in turn, triggered much whining and complaining from Johnny. Instead of reprimanding his partner, which would have only resulted in more whining and complaining, Charley opted to get dressed and check in on Sam. Once he verified that the shifter had not succumbed to boredom, he would deal with Johnny. And then have a bite to drink.  
  
“Sam?” Charley called out as he entered the dining room. When he did not hear an immediate response, he tried again. “Sam?”  
  
“In here!”  
  
The living room. Charley should have figured as much. And was it just his imagination or did Sam’s voice sound a little… off?  
  
“I hope you weren’t too bored,” he said, walking into the room… and finding his friend with a lap full of Rayfell.  
  
“He’s no Alcide,” she said while ruffling the trapped man’s hair. “But I guess he’ll do.”  
  
“Rayfell!” Charley was horrified. But again, not surprised. “Get off of him!”  
  
“Please,” Sam added, his face frozen in a cringe.  
  
Rayfell let out an exasperated sigh, agitated that her generous sexual advances had gone unappreciated.  
  
“You know, Cherry...” She crawled out of Sam’s lap, much to his visible relief, and sauntered over to Charley. “... I thought that getting laid regularly would make you lighten up a bit. What’s wrong? Is my other half not  _rising_  to the occasion?”  
  
“I rise just fine, thank you very much,” Johnny growled from the doorway to the dining room.  
  
“Oh, no,” Charley moaned.  
  
“Are you sure about that?” Rayfell jeered. “Limp dick.”  
  
“Bitch.”  
  
 _“Homo!”_  
  
 _“Skank!”_  
  
As the name-calling continued, Charley sat down beside Sam, who placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, man,” was all he could offer.  
  
Charley glanced at the squabbling duo just as Rayfell was comparing Johnny’s penis to a wet noodle and Johnny was theorizing that entire legions of men had been lost in the black hole of Rayfell’s nether regions.  
  
“Yeah,” he said sorrowfully, snatching off his glasses and covering his face with his hands. “Me, too.”  
  
And so began another night in the Chrishunds-Rayflo house.


	4. Chapter 4

“Master?”  
  
“Yes, my sweet Cherry?”  
  
“Are you going to tell me what you and Rayfell were talking about?”  
  
“No, my sweet Cherry.”  
  
“Fine. Will you at least do me one small favor?”  
  
“Anything for you, darling.”  
  
Charley lowered his book and scowled at the vampire smiling angelically next to him.  _“Get your hand out of my crotch,”_ he growled.  
  
Johnny pouted as only he could. “Anything but that.”  
  
With a heavy sigh, Charley removed Johnny’s groping hand and stood up. “Pervert.”  
  
“You like it,” Johnny replied with a shrug.  
  
Charley opted not to dignify that statement with a response. Mostly because it was true.  
  
Instead, he tossed his book aside and crossed over to the other side of the room. “I wish you would tell me what you’re planning to do,” he said, keeping his voice low both out of respect for a sleeping Sam and because he wanted Johnny to know that he was being quite serious.  
  
What began as a simple nagging suspicion the night before when Johnny had disappeared to make a phone call was now quickly turning into full-fledged worry. After his little verbal spat with Rayfell, Johnny had led her downstairs, where they remained for quite some time. When they were finished doing… whatever they were doing… she abruptly left without even attempting to further assault Sam. Johnny could joke his way out of the question all he wanted, but Charley was becoming increasingly convinced that something was unfolding without his knowledge.  
  
“You worry too much, Cherry. How many times have I told you that?”  
  
Johnny stretched out on the couch, and Charley tried very hard not to become distracted by the way that his shirt rode up and revealed a tantalizing glimpse of his smooth, flat stomach.  
  
“As many times as I’ve told you that you don’t worry enough,” the cyborg shot back.  
  
“Fair enough.” Johnny’s gaze softened. “Come over here.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“ _Please_ , Cherry.”  
  
Charley opened his mouth, intending to scold his maker for resorting to attempted seduction to change the subject. But when Johnny unfastened his sinfully tight black pants and lowered the zipper just enough to reveal a hint of hair, words understandably failed him.  
  
After numerous attempts to form proper sentences, he finally managed a strangled, “W-We have company. And you’re loud.”  
  
“The basement is soundproof,” Johnny pointed out.  
  
So it was.  
  
It would serve Johnny right for Charley to ignore his advances and make him suffer. The only problem was that Charley would suffer right along with him. And judging from the effect that Johnny’s body was having on him, it was fairly safe to assume that his own body had already made its decision.  
  
He would get to the bottom of the Rayfell mystery later. But for now…  
  
“Let’s go.”  
  
*****  
  
Pam cringed in contempt as she held a goblet of blood to Bill’s lips. “Drink up, asshole,” she snarled.  
  
Slowly, Bill raised his head. That alone was a hard enough task while being bound by silver. His eyes widened briefly when he saw Pam’s face. Understanding why, she burst into mocking laughter.  
  
“Did you seriously think that he would send Ginger in here for you to glamour?” she asked. “Give him some credit.”  
  
“Sookie,” he whispered raggedly. “Where…” He paused to gather himself and tried again. “Where is she?”  
  
“My God, do I hate that fucking name.” The vampire rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. She’s still alive. For now.”  
  
“Pam… please… don’t let him hurt her.”  
  
“Oh, you are barking up the wrong tree, fucknut. After what happened to Eric because of you?” Pam glared at him. “You know, you ought to be thankful. If it was up to me, I’d have started cutting off pieces of her by now.” She nudged him in the mouth with the goblet, causing blood to splash over the rim and onto his lips. “ _Now drink._ ”  
  
Bill reluctantly accepted the blood. Refusing was pointless; if he hadn’t taken it willingly, she would have forced it down his throat anyway. Besides, he needed to maintain what little strength he had left. Should the opportunity, however small, arise to break free from his restraints, he had every intention of taking it.  
  
He thought back to a long ago conversation with a vampire eager to know what was going to become of his progeny. Bill understood now the helplessness that Johnny Rayflo must have felt when Eric detained Charley. Perhaps this was fate’s way of repaying him for his own role in what happened. If he hadn’t told Eric about them in the first place, that unfortunate event would not have followed. Nor would he be trapped there now, unable to do anything except wonder and worry about the well-being of the woman he loved.  
  
“Good boy.” Pam pulled the goblet away from his lips and favored him with a mean-spirited smile. “Now, I’d rest up if I were you. Eric will be by later and… well, I don’t want to ruin the surprise but let’s just say that what he has planned is going to make everything you’ve been through so far feel like a wet dream. Bye now.”  
  
Bill tried not to contemplate all the things that could possibly be worse than the agony he had endured up until now. But as long as it wasn’t happening to Sookie, he would do his best to manage.  
  
“As long as it’s not Sookie…”  
  
Holding onto that thought, Bill lowered his head and closed his eyes.  
  
All he could do now was wait for the pain.  
  
*****  
  
It was a good thing that the room was soundproof because all of that grunting and moaning and colliding flesh was deafening.  
  
“Harder, Cherry.  _Harder._ ”  
  
Charley wasn’t sure how much harder he could fuck Johnny without breaking him but if that was what he wanted, he would gladly try.  
  
He grabbed onto his lover’s hips and started pounding relentlessly into the tightness of the vampire’s body, his eyes locked on the pale skin of Johnny’s back and his fangs bared as he was overcome with the urge to bite, to mark, to  _own_. Johnny had once told him that it was a kink, but Charley disagreed. A desire that desperate, that overwhelming, was far more than some sexual proclivity. It felt like madness. Sweet, blissful madness.  
  
Leaning forward and grabbing a handful of dark locks, Charley pulled Johnny upright and started fucking up into him even harder than before. Johnny shuddered and reached between his legs, stroking his cock in time with the thrusts that penetrated him. After a while, he let his head fall back on Charley’s shoulder, exposing his neck.  
  
“Do it, Cherry,” he rasped, stroking faster.  
  
In the past year since they had become intimate, Charley had become quite good at reading Johnny. Or rather, Johnny’s body. Because of that, he waited until he knew for certain that the vampire had passed the point of no return before biting deeply into his neck, giving in to his impulse and giving Johnny the pain that he craved.  
  
Sure enough, the sound of a sharp hiss was immediately followed by a throaty cry as Johnny’s cock spurted in his hand and he came all over the bed below. With no more reason to hold back, especially after having miraculously lasted so long, Charley surrendered to his orgasm, letting it sweep him away. He clung to Johnny as he filled him, his body consumed by pleasure unlike any he had ever known before losing his virginity during a boxcar escape twelve months earlier. When the sensation finally started to ebb, he swallowed the blood that had filled his mouth and released his hold, pulling both of them down to the bed in a trembling heap.  
  
“My God,” Johnny whispered.  
  
“That’s my line,” Charley croaked.  
  
With a tired chuckle, Johnny rolled over and planted a trail of kisses along Charley’s collarbone. “Thank you,” he murmured, licking his way along the other vampire’s neck.  
  
“You’re welcome.” Charley wrapped his arms around Johnny. “But don’t think that I’ve forgotten.”  
  
“Jeez, Cherry,” Johnny groaned. He pulled back just enough to face him. “I was just warning her about what was going on. She was there with us so it seemed like the right thing to do.”  
  
“That’s it?”  
  
“… That’s it.”  
  
Charley pressed his face against the top of Johnny’s head and breathed in deeply. “Okay.”  
  
They remained that way for some time, neither vampire willing (or in Johnny’s case,  _able_ ) to move from the comfort of each other’s arms just yet. And as was so often the case after they were together, Charley lamented the many years he had wasted denying himself so much happiness.  
  
“Hey, Cherry?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to sit this one out, would you?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Johnny slowly ran his fingers along Charley’s perfect chest. “If I asked you to stay home while I went to Bon Temps alone—”  
  
“No. Absolutely not.” Charley sat up, frowning. “Why would you even want that?”  
  
“Are you really surprised I would want that after what happened to you?”  
  
“Master…” Charley took Johnny’s hand into his own. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m going with you.”  
  
“Okay, okay.” Johnny sat up with a grunt and let his back fall against the headboard of the bed. “But I need you to promise me something.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Whatever happens between me and Eric, promise me that you won’t interfere.”  
  
“But—”  
  
“ _Promise me_ , Chris.”  
  
Charley stared at the vampire’s serious expression and was worried all over again. He hadn’t wanted to entertain the idea that Johnny might lose to Eric but… what if he did? Was this why he was being asked to promise that he wouldn’t do anything?  
  
Was Johnny trying to prepare him for the chance of his defeat?  
  
… His  _death?_  
  
 _This time, one of us is going to die._  
  
“Master, I…” Charley shook his head and sighed harshly. “I promise,” he said quietly.  
  
“Good.” Johnny’s sudden smile was as mischievous as ever, though the affection in his eyes was obvious. “Now let’s go take a shower. I’m all gooey down there.”  
  
“Ew.”  
  
“Don’t ‘ew’ me. It’s your fault!”  
  
They headed into the bathroom and hopped into the shower where Charley took his sweet time fucking Johnny up against the tiles… while trying not to think about the terrifying possibility of an existence without him.  
  
*****  
  
Cheryl stood up when Rayfell returned from the basement, her eyes curious and wide behind her tiny glasses. “Well?”  
  
“It’s done.” Rayfell moved over to the couch and pulled Cheryl down, then rested her head in her lap. “I have no idea if it’s going to work, but it’s done.”  
  
The child smiled in relief and lovingly caressed a crown of dark and wavy hair. “It  _has_  to work,” she said, speaking to herself just as much as her master. “So what do we do now?”  
  
Rayfell turned over and regarded the little girl’s expectant face. “Now we wait and see if my idiot other half knows what the fuck he’s doing.”


End file.
